Duty
by Drown Me In Blue
Summary: All Byakuya had ever known was duty. An endless chain of duty and obligation, responsibility and accountability, of never living for himself. It numbed him, after a while.


**Pairing: **_Byakuya Kuchiki x Ichigo Kurosaki_

**Music** Let Me Be the One_, by Blessed Union of Souls_

**Word count:** ~ 700

**Rating:** T

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_**Prompt 15: **__Duty_

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All Byakuya had ever known was duty—duty to Hisana, to his family, to his Division, to the other captains, to the Captain-Commander, to Soul Society. An endless chain of duty and obligation, responsibility and accountability, of never living for _himself_. It numbed him after a while, dulled everything to a monochrome landscape of black and white, right and wrong, good and evil. There were no shades of grey. There was no overlap. Black was black and white was white. They never crossed, never bled into one another.

It was predictable, safe, and—above all—it was _boring_.

But then, like a falling star, a stranger burst into his life in a Technicolor blaze, and suddenly black was silver and gold and fuchsia, and white was brilliant scarlet and daylily-orange. Suddenly he could see patterns again, starbursts of color and streaks of radiance that lit up the world.

For the first time in his life, Byakuya _wanted_.

For the first time in his life, he _got_.

Ichigo might have been younger by over a hundred years, but it could never be said that he didn't know what he wanted. Byakuya had felt the substitute's eyes on him several times after their final battle, and knew that his interest was returned—though, of course, he couldn't say _how much_ was returned. Did Ichigo simply want one night with him? Did he want a few weeks, a time to play around and become accustomed to such a relationship? Did he want Byakuya to court him in the manner of a nobleman?

(Somehow, Byakuya felt he was safe from the last one; he couldn't imagine Ichigo _ever_ wanting to be courted with such archaic rituals as the House was likely to insist on.)

Byakuya was scared to look deeper into their relationship, the hesitant connection that had formed between two war-battered men with very little left to lose. The courage that was so vaunted among the other captains had vanished, swept away by a boy with sun-bright hair and an acrobat's limber grace. Now he felt that all he had left was his cowardice. For, truly, how rare was it that two people actually loved _each other_ to the same degree? It was such a small probability that he couldn't bear to ask what Ichigo wished them to become.

His heart was still healing from Hisana's death. The fragile bonds holding it together wouldn't withstand another blow.

Still, it wasn't all painful and terrible, Byakuya thought, wrapping his arms around the leanly muscled form draped over his side. He buried his nose in the brilliant hair and inhaled the scent of clean mountain air, cold night skies, and burning power that clung to the substitute. The weight of another body next to his was a grounding warmth, even as it sent his head spinning, and the idea that, out of all the men and women who wanted him, Ichigo had chosen _Byakuya_ was staggering. Byakuya knew he was a cold man, that his duty to his House and the Gotei 13 overwhelmed everything else in his life, leaving no time for relationships or love.

And yet, here Ichigo was, in his arms and in his bed, softly illuminated by the golden light of sunrise spilling through the windows.

He should have been scared, terrified of what the future held, but all Byakuya could feel was contentment.

There was a soft rustle of blankets, and Ichigo rolled over, pressing closer to him. The boy somehow managed to find his hand and wind their fingers together, even asleep, and Byakuya smiled slightly, pulling him closer still. Here, now, like this, he could say it.

"Kurosaki Ichigo, I have fallen in love with you," he murmured.

Shock stilled his heart as sleepy topaz eyes fluttered open, and Ichigo smiled at him in return, just slightly—neither of them was much for smiles, really. Then he buried his face in the curve of Byakuya's shoulder and mumbled, "Love you, too. Go back to sleep. Too early."

Speechless, Byakuya did as he was told, tightening his grip on the substitute until it was nearly painful before he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
